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by ColdSunWarmMoon



Category: FFXV - Fandom, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, MT Prompto Argentum, MT ideas, No Romance, sort of...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 18:29:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdSunWarmMoon/pseuds/ColdSunWarmMoon
Summary: The machine has his face. The machine has his face and Prompto wants nothing more than to shy away from it. Shun it and cast it away to deepest depths of his mind.





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**Author's Note:**

> This is an old ficlet I barely remember even writing. Probably for stress relief or something.  
> I think I'm better at writing people having a bad time than a good one... also excuse my bad grammar or spelling cuz I'm not checking this one over.

The sound that left Prompto’s throat was different from anything the whole group had heard.

It started off quiet. An intake of breath with momentary whimpers before quickly escalating into a crescendo of a blood curdling scream. They all turned around, Noctis the fastest as he had begun to turn as soon as he heard Prompto gasp. Because usually, Prompto would just let out a random sound when spooked in one breath; never taking the time to really look over what had frightened him into a yelp. But this. This was different. Noctis could hear the scream grate against Prompto’s own throat.

He caught him push away the MT that was draped over his body, it’s robotic arms attempting to scratch at the blonde to inflict any type of harm it could while disarmed. Prompto scrambled across the grass on his behind once the thing clanged onto its back. Motionless.

“What happened?” Noctis jumped in, crouching to be at level with his friend.

“...” Prompto didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at Noctis. He just stared at the MT a few feet across from him.

“You’re okay now. Y’know that right? Just breathe.” 

“It had my...” Prompto’s eyes looked empty and drained. Like the times he would blankly stare at his failing school marks, but even worse. He placed a shaking hand over the side of his face, now staring a hole into the ground beneath him.

“Huh, what does it have?” Gladio and Ignis made there way over once they noticed that Noctis hadn’t gotten Prompto on his feet yet.

“My...” Prompto took deep gasping breaths not wanting to scream again. Especially at his friends. He felt like he was in hysterics and that he was going to burst and melt at the same time.

“...face...” Prompto croaked out.

“The MT has your face.” Gladio’s tone was sceptic.

Prompto could only nod. Positively not in the mood to argue. Noctis noticed his meek behaviour and sent Gladio an exasperated glare, and made his way over to the MT. Just to humour Prompto.

Though what he saw was no laughing matter. In fact, it was something to give you nightmares or burst into tears if you didn’t know that the actual person owning the same face was okay.

The MT, clad in Prompto’s skin had it’s eyes a lightless red and skin a sickly pale hue. It’s mouth hauntingly ajar as it displayed no emotion in its eyes or expression, blood splattered across their jaw and form already beginning to deteriorate.

“By the Gods.” Noctis breathed out, clutching tightly at his twisting heart as he looked back to a cowering Prompto.

“Holy shit...” Gladio breathed out next.

“Prompto, no. Don’t look at it again.” They turned their head around to see Ignis supporting a weak legged Prompto onto his feet.

“Why do they...why do they have my face?” The blond’s voice was so meek, fearful of the answer that was to await him.

“I don’t know,” Ignis truthfully replied.

 

 


End file.
